HIGHLY COMMENDED
in the Frazzled Lit Short Story Award 2025!
Listen to Thomas reading his story:
Keeping in touch. These days of vaccination and fake news you have to do that. Some friends out there who worry about things. Like myself. Keep the faith I tell them. We’re for the long haul. And that means hanging in together.
The wife said to me the other day: ‘You better start wearing a mask.’
‘No way,’ I said.
She knew it was serious. That I meant business. Mask for what anyway? Whoever is turning out those things must be making a fortune. The common cold never meant that we should wear masks. I won’t bother drawing up a list of the ordinary ailments that are dressed up as Covid. Getting the mass panic going. A rush to the lifeboats.
We are social animals. A voice behind a mask is just too much for me. Turns people into things. Things to be vacked.
I’ve given up going into shops: no good getting arrested over a point of principle. Which is important: being out there with your beliefs on display! People need to see that there are still some who think for themselves. Our freedoms are in danger. Our thoughts. Time for a show of strength. Get onto the streets. That’s my plan.
Lots of things that we hold dear are limp and fragile when you look at them closely. They need to be appreciated, preserved. Admired even.
Vaccination is not the only thing that is a danger to our sanity and our natural bodily functions. Good people gave a lot for what we hold dear. We need to protect it any way we can. But first: find others who believe in the same things and maybe were too afraid to say them.
Standing together we can change everything to the way it was, or at least, the way it should be.
I mean, the other day I was on the Internet, chatting to some guy (I think he was a guy). He was telling me that the world is flat. Now I’m an open-minded fella, so I was prepared to listen to (Well, in this case read) what he was sending me. I asked him how he knew. He said back that the whole thing was logical. That we’d all fall off if it wasn’t.
‘But what about the curve of the earth you see when you look out the window of an aeroplane?’
‘Distortion through the glass.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Sure, I’m sure.’
‘What about gravity?’ I said.
‘How do you know there’s such a thing?’ he said.
‘Newton, Einstein, guys like that,’ I said.
‘Ever meet them?’ he replied.
‘No, course not. They’re dead.’
‘How do you know they lived? Who told you they did? Maybe they were lying. Maybe the people who told you about them were lying.’
‘Maybe.’
I forgot to mention Stephen Hawking, but anyway, he’s dead too. I decided to give it one last shot. ‘What about those pictures from the moon? You know, taken by the guys who landed there. The world looks round from there.’
I didn’t have very long to wait for his answer. ‘Maybe they weren’t there at all. Maybe it was a HOLLYWOOD PROP, the whole thing. Likewise, pictures from space.’
This fella got me thinking. He followed it up with: ‘Don’t believe everything you are told. A lot of it is lies.’
He was right, one million percent right. But I had to respond. I mean, anything about a lie, that gets me going. I need to investigate.
‘Told by who?’
‘The guys who CONTROL YOUR THINKING. A secret conclave of businessmen.’
‘Who are they?’
‘We can only guess. Who are the richest people in the world?’
‘I’m afraid to say in case I get sued. Or worse,’ I said.
‘You got it. Some of them are famous. Some are not. Those dudes are telling you lies. INVENTING AN EPIDEMIC that doesn’t exist.’
‘You mean Covid?
‘Yes, Covid. They’re making a fortune on it. Your bucks and mine. And we have no proof it exists.’
‘None,’ I replied. This virtual fella was on my wavelength.
‘What can we do about it?’ I said then.
‘Spread the word. Like now. Protect your thinking. Reach out. You are not alone. This virtual forum proves it. Fight back against the conspiracy to turn us all into MINDLESS ENTITIES.’
‘Okay,’ I said. And the chat stopped. But I’ll be back. There is one other sane guy out there. Talking my language. His name is Ponder Zero. My kind of man (If he is one).
I’ve always been a man who thinks for himself, so what that fella was saying made good sense. The idea of turning us all into something pornographic scared the bejees out of me. But it clicked. Everywhere I looked I could see the truth of his message. Ponder Zero.
I was in Dublin a few weeks ago and I saw a fella who looked just like Elvis. It was a shock. I thought he was dead. I wanted to go over and ask him if it really was him, shake his hand, get an autograph, ask him how it felt to be famous, to be still alive instead of dead. I didn’t. Privacy has to be respected, and that’s a thing we Irish are good at. Respecting privacy. And the dead.
Still, I wouldn’t have minded a conversation with him. I’ll keep an eye out the next time I’m in Dublin. All that graffiti must mean something. It must: Elvis lives.
John Lennon is another fella I’d like to meet. I think he just went to ground, back to his ancestral homeland under an assumed name. I mean, he bought an island off the Mayo coast. That has to be a clue for what he was planning. Must check out Mayo sometime. They’re a cute lot over there. He’d fit in all right and not a word about it to any outsider. I think the CIA was after him for some of those songs he wrote.
Being the rebel that he was or is, I know he’d be against the mask. Like myself. Come to think of it, the mask is perfect for anonymity. If you’re famous like that, sure you couldn’t even scratch your ass without everyone staring and taking note like a crime is being committed.
Wearing masks, we could protest and no one would know who we really are. Wouldn’t that be a good move? Turning the thing back against our anonymous controllers: becoming anonymous ourselves. And getting our privacy back, into the virtual bargain.
In other words, there can be good reasons for the mask. Sometimes you have to see beyond the icebox and go out there. Into the virtual. Which all goes to show that I am not above seeing the other point of view. I have strong beliefs, but within the confines of what is necessary for the preservation of our natural bodily functions, I am more than willing to give ground. All things are possible these days of crisis. So, open-mindedness is a must. Which is sometimes difficult to do when you are under pressure. Like I am.
Opinions are getting scarce. There’ll soon be laws against them. That’s why this kind of conversation is impossible to hold in public. People like me are practically underground. But we have to speak out too. We’re not human if we don’t. That’s where virtual reality comes in: Freedom. A new, alternative frontier.
Have to get back to Ponder Zero. Does he think that Elvis is still around? Stephen Hawking (Maybe I could ask him about natural bodily functions), John lennon? Jim Morrisson? Jimi H.? Jesus C.? The list is endless. And so is the mystery. How would I get in touch with any of these undead guys? Recruit them to the cause?
I could try X. Twitter, TicToc. Might. A lot of stuff in there. But Elvis first. The King.
The other day, I said something to the missus about Ponder Zero. Just to see her reaction. The look she gave me! People can’t be persuaded. You can only put the message out. And hope. An easy attitude worked in the past, with a bit of friendly slagging thrown in. Maybe grafitti: Fuck the law. Che is not dead. Jesus lives, etc. etc.
The internet is the thing now. You can reach people there. The ones who are searching, that is. We need imaginative emojis. Emojis with an impact. I’m searching for them; maybe something provocative, something male. And proud.
Not everyone is searching. But there must be lots of people like myself, like Ponder Zero. Out there in the ethernet. Virtual reality is a lonely place. I know as well as anyone about the conspiracies that are closing in on us. Squeezing us hard.
I’m thinking of setting up a blog to promote things. Raise the flag for the Antis. Like-minded people. People who are feeling the pressure: the lostness. We need to find each other and say NO together. For sure it’ll cause a stir. The Vackers will respond with their abuse. And the weight of numbers.
Has to be done. But reaching out is hard to do.
Why do it? Why go to all the trouble? Sometimes I feel shite and I think: Who gives a fuck anyway? It only lasts a minute that feeling, and then I’m back to the real me. The one who is searching. Rebelling. Saying no. Virtually. TO ALL THE SHITE IN THE WORLD!
The things that are going on in labs. Putting transmitters into the vaccine that’s going into peoples’ veins. Monitoring our most precious organs. DNA from aborted babies. Horrible stuff to imagine. Wool of bat and toe of frog. Nothing about it surprises me at all.
Is everything healthily dangling? That is an important consideration that women can never understand. How can they anyway? I’m talking about ventilation as well as freedom of movement. Space. We men need it like never before. To think that these precious things that we hold dear will soon be EXTINCT! Revive the kilt! Maybe!
There are deep issues at work. If the wife could see my side of things, it would be a help. Her, with her mask and her total disrespect for our natural bodily functions! As men.
We males need understanding. Not a: Go lie in the corner look. Men are men. And that’s what it is.
Back to the Internet. Anyone out there? No brainwashed zombies need apply. I’m talking about virtual reality; sending out the message where the onus is against turning us into pornographic ENTITIES. Getting real. Because what real used to mean no longer applies. The world we knew has been explored, certified and overrun to the point of tourist destination and wishing you were here!
The virtual one still awaits us to go beyond etc. etc. We need to be imaginative, bold like Captain Kirk. And flexible enough to see boldly. And not to be led by unscrupulous billionaires who are undermining our freedoms from within and without, above and below. The most precious things we have are being targeted by the greasy paws of individuals who are conspiring against mankind. And getting away with it. That’s the worst bit.
The missus got vaccinated the other day. Left me last man standing in this house. No wonder I’m feeling the pressure. Like Hitler in his bunker, and the Allies knocking to get in. I know how it feels.
STAND UP, PUSH BACK, WE’VE HAD ENOUGH. That’s gonna be on our banner on the streets. You, alternative rebels of the world, Unite! Join our movement and then go shout from the rooftops: VACK OFF to those faceless manipulating VACKERS! Wherever they are. Whoever they are. They will be unmasked and made answerable someday. Publicly. Shamefully. Hopefully.
That’s the message now. We are under VACCINATURAL THREAT. Get the word out. Get together, shout together, stick together. Virtually.
NO VACKERS NEED APPLY!
Thomas Kiernan is married with a grown-up family. He has been a farmer, lived abroad for some years, worked on building sites, drove taxis, taught English, been a house parent. His hobbies are reading, drama, keeping fit, learning, good food, and people-watching. He speaks good French and is currently learning Irish. In 2016, he won the Bryan McMahon short story competition with his story Sunflowers. In 2017, he was longlisted in the RTE Francis MacManus short story competition with his story Coming Down Hard. In 2024, he was longlisted in the From the Well short story competition with his story Tides.
Editor’s Note: The views expressed by the character in this story are not necessarily those of the writer, or those of the editors of Frazzled Lit.